apparently, no one else has ever heard of Bag. most polled think it doesnt even sound interesting. this is most disheartening. yet, it also ensures my keeping the title.

oh and it seems fitting to mention that it was not i who first personified Mold, and she who did wanted me to make it clear that Mold is male while Molde is of the gentler sex.

i just played the most amazing game of Bag. you know the game: youre driving down the freeway and along comes floating upon various currents of air a ripe plastic grocery bag. the object is to catch said bag on the grill of your automobile. perhaps youve played one of similar games called Newspaper or Flyer. anyways, im sure you are aware of the various factors that affect a good game of Bag. the driver with the jerky foot has a serious handicap. well, this afternoon i picked up a bag in oceanside on my way up to orange county. well, the smile of heaven must have been upon me this afternoon. the checkpoint was clear, the wind blew in a constant southerly direction, the road was smooth. I carried that bag for 37.4 miles until i finally had to stop and fill up the gas tank.

now if the truth be told i did not believe that this bag was still there. in fact i thought that i must not have picked it up at all, but it just passed and i didnt notice. in orange county i hit some serious traffic which brought me down to within ten miles per hour. even the most experienced Bag players have trouble with that move. if the bag had still been there, surely i would have lost it then. i started reflecting on the literary "truths" of my adventure as i pulled into the gas station. i tell you no lie, there is as much, if not more, historical merit to this story as literary merit. the bag was still there. my heart lept for joy. and still leaps!

when i reached my destination i saw that the bag was still there. im sure i must be setting a record with this one. I should inquire about cash prizes.

some of you know that one of my favorite pasttimes involves a certain comedic protest against business establishments that feign a sense of "personal" service. i mean particularly the kind of place that chooses, rather than assigning a number to your order, to ask your first name. the claim, im sure is that its lends a more personal feel to the otherwise cold and money-driven transaction. my personal protest is that i use phony names. even more exciting is that if the clerk serving me is a man wearing a name tag, invariably, my name for the duration of the transaction, is his name.

its not at all uncommon to have a conversation that runs like this:

chuck: anything else for you?
trouble: nope
chuck: can i get your name?
trouble: chuck
chuck: heeeey, cool name!
trouble: huh? oh...(dispassionately) yeah.

yester, i made my way into a cafeteria at ucsd, one where i can be seen a couple of times each week. its true, im a fan of the breakfast burrito. i approached the burrito counter and was quickly addressed by one of the cooks with, "breakfast burrito?" i wasnt completely shocked, but i was at least a bit impressed. another woman, not a student and a usual at the breakfast counter replied, "i bet we know you better than your own family." i gave a half smile as i began to wait for my burrito. the interesting part of the story is that the second woman, whom we will call Old Woman has been the victim of my devious trickery since the beginning of the year.

upon each occasion burrito purchasing occasion Old Woman would finish taking my order with "can i get your name?". the names would vary, sometimes with repetition. (its an art in all honesty!) after a number of occasions the Old Woman would say, "im sorry, i dont recall your name". after supplying a previously unused name, i would say, "no problem, its hard to remember." in more recent months Old Woman has stopped marveling at the fact that my name is strangely unfamiliar despite the obvious recognition of my face. she simply asks for my name. "antoine." and proceeds to call me by that name a few times during our daily dealing.

the irony is that she really thinks she knows me better than my own family, while she cant even remember my name.

as a side note, i first developed this game at The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. i went in this morning to find my favorite baristas working. (i havent yet had the nerve to use the name of the women who work behind the counter.) i walked in, she said, "vanilla?" "yep", i replied. and strangely, she didnt ask my name. the reason for this i supposed (and why she is my favorite barista) was that she had recognized that i use different names. not that she knew me by one name, for i dont go in there quite often enough, but that she knew there was something unfamiliar about the names i kept offering. well, i was both right and wrong. i was curious how they would call my drink. "vanilla blended?" might they say. "victor?" the other barista called out. ah, victor is one of my favorites. i use it more often than any other name and i admit ive used it more than a few occasions at coffee bean. it was, in fact, more of a delight to be known by one of my pseudonyms than to sip the frosty beverage.

abouting to speak of discount market tortures...

i was under a frowning providence last saturday when i decided to make a stop at walmart for a few items for the new apartment. the primary objectives of my shopping list were some artificial turf and a card table. i was one hour and a half in walmart, i left without said objects and fever was running high. i dont even know to what i could liken my experience. the aisles were crowded, few of the checkout stands were open. upon returning home i asked the wife to please take a louisville slugger to the side of my head the next time i should get the inclination to visit walmart on a saturday. she agreed to comply.

the lighter part of my saturday shopping was as i went into a local christian bookstore to buy a new bible. our bibles, along with every other book we used to own were destroyed due to "the mold", whom ive decided to personify as Mold. suffice to say Molds hearty appetite was satisfied in our old apartment when she consumed everything in sight. anyways, it somehow came up at the cash register of the bookstore that i was a high school teacher. not simply a high school teacher, nor even a math teacher, but particularly a public school teacher. one girl, in particular, appeared to be so astonished at meeting a real-life public school teacher that i thought she might nearly faint. she couldnt get quite enough of the lore of "street life", as she kept calling it. why, i actually felt like james dean. ill never shop there again, cus their books really suck, but i do believe ill remain an urban legend at loaves and fishes bookstore.

id like to give props to pic n save for having the insight to change its name in order to change its image. for far too long now, pic n save has been thought of as the place where junk lines the aisles, haphazardly sorted and scarcely valuable. a good deal for a $.99 white elephant gift exchange, sure, but not an outlet for quality merchandise. pic n save is now big lots! and id like to give extra props to pic n save for picking a name, the only name, perhaps, that could actually be worse than pic n save. big lots! is totally nondescript. it doesnt even make any sense; unless its a puzzle, which might give it a few small merits. nevertheless, way to go pic n save for making an effort to change your image and failing miserably. you may now sell your same old crap under a shiny new sign.

two unfortunate bits of radio history today:

i was on my way up to orange county today listening to a not-so-strong-signaled san diego radio station. they have a feature where if you listen during the lunch hour and can be the first caller with the names of three songs they play by the same artist, you win some prize. i was primed and ready to go. the third song played and i dialed and it rang. i was super fast and i was number one. the station let it ring for about 6 minutes at which point i arrived in san clemente and lost my connection. boo!

later on the drive home they announced another contest for a chance to win a trip to new orleans. caller 21 was to be victor. i dialed. it rang. "number one, try again" the voice resounded. i redialed. busy. i redialed. "number 7, try again". i dialed. a few more busys. again. "number 19, hurry" and that was it. no win. it aint right to get through 3 times within 20 callers and not win. grrr